#also you can't see in this image but their legs are tangled up at that moment

[meduseld]

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.�� He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

[amostimprobabledream]

The Sweetest Violence (Homelander x Reader)

Just a lil drabble, also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57696463

"Sssh..." Blood. So much blood. The fetid stink of it is everywhere. It fills up your nostrils and chokes up your senses. It's thick and sticky in your hair, hot and drying in stiff patches on your skin. You feel like you could take a hundred showers, soak in the bath for hours and hours and it still wouldn't get rid of the sensation of blood clinging to your flesh. Homelander doesn't seem to notice or care about the blood. He carries you easily, clasped to is chest, his own face splashed with blood, dark patches of it staining his blonde hair. The brilliant blue of his eyes seems to burn through a streaky veil of scarlet, made all the more vivid by the contrast. "It's all right," he whispers to you as he walks, his soothing tone at odds with the gore-soaked state of him. "It's okay now. Ssh. You must've been scared, huh?" Yes. You were. The people who took you saw you as nothing more than an object, a tool with which they could use against Homelander. You could tell by the impersonal way they handled you, the way they barley looked at you and didn't bat an eyelid at your screams and shouts. That scared you more than anything, the dead, cold looks in their eyes, like you were trying to communicate with machines, not people. If they could be so indifferent to your fear and confusion, what would they care about doing more permanent damage?

So, when you heard it - the rush of air and signature boom of one of Homelander's signature landings, those dramatic superhero drops that signify I am here, it was like divine intervention. The relief that hit you was like no high you'd ever experienced before, the way you imagine a shipwreck survivor must feel when they finally see the boat that's come to save them after being stranded in the brutal, unforgiving seas. That was, until Homelander got to work. Bodies. Ripped apart like paper. Heads not rolling but exploding like watermelons struck by a bat. Unholy shrieks of horror and agony drowned out in wet gurgles of blood. Eyes shining like warning lights in the gloom - inhuman, like a monster from a nightmare. You could only curl up as best you could and close your eyes to the carnage, a sob tangled in your throat, but you couldn't quite drown out the screaming and your imagination supplied you plenty of images that rivalled the horror of what was happening.

When Homelander calmly melted the chains on you and hoisted you up into his arms, you briefly wondered if you were about to die too - even though he'd come to rescue you. Your mind  is in a haze -a long time ago, somebody had explained to you the difference between horror and terror, and you felt it keenly now. You're not screaming or thrashing to escape, or outwardly freaking out at all. Instead, you feel like you've been plunged into a pool of still, frigid water and simply wait under the surface, unwilling to expend any energy into swimming up to the surface and peering out at whatever may lay above. You retreat into numbness, curiously swamped with cold despite how hot Homelander is. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his suit, your breath coming out in sharp little pants. Homelander can hear the frantic pounding of your heart and how you breathe like there isn't enough air, but he assumes that it's from the fear of being kidnapped, of men in dark clothes and with dead eyes. It probably hasn't even crossed your mind that the one who has driven you to this heightened state of fear is him. And you don't want him to think it, so you nuzzle deeper into him, you can't seem to stop hyperventilating no matter how you try. "S'okay," Homelander shushes you, misunderstanding your trembling, a gloved hand petting your hair like he's trying to soothe a skittish animal. He's so monstrously strong he can hold you, a grown woman, easily to his body with just one arm, and you automatically wrap your legs around him, a gesture you've done many times before, but never in this context. He's being so gentle with you that it's hard to believe you just witnessed a man being torn in half by Homelander's bare hands. "You're safe. I've got you." Yes, he does. You're locked in his powerful embrace like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. You bury your face in his chest to hide your expression as well as seeking comfort - it seems perverse to look for it from a man soaked in blood, but what else can you do? You let yourself be lulled into a calmer state, his warmth seeping into you and the slow, rhythmic motions of his hand in your hair weirdly comforting.

But you don't miss the gravel, the hint of threat in his voice when he speaks again. You know it's not directed at you, not his sweetheart, but you still feel a shiver lick down your spine as he speaks; "No one will ever take you away from me."

[chuulyssa]

if your requests for the prompts are still open, could you do dazai for 1, 2, 5, and 8 if you haven't already? /nf

★ PROMPT ─ 1, 2, 5, 8

!! FT. ─ dazai

─ wearing his clothes

You finally entered the agency after staring at your reflection in the rearview mirror of your car for fifteen minutes. You snickered. Dazai's long sand-coloured trench coat perfectly hugged the shirt and vest you had also stolen from him.

You had barely walked a few steps when you saw Dazai lying down on the couch, wearing your hoodie? You gasped and hurried over to him, lifting the hoodie up to see what he wore under that. And sure enough, there was your favourite T-shirt.

You frowned, and lifted the T-shirt up too, to see what else the bastard had stolen. Unfortunately, you were met with his bare skin, and Dazai giggled, stuffing your fingers further under the T-shirt onto his chest. From the corner of your eye, you could see Kunikida glaring at the sight.

"You thief!" you screamed at Dazai.

"I could say the same about you, bella," he cackled. "I can explain, though! I was getting ready for work, and I looked into my wardrobe for clothes, but they were all gone!"

"All gone?" you sneered. "I only stole one pair."

"That's all I had," he said dramatically.

Kunikida was on the verge of tears.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ helping you sleep

Dazai pulled the blanket out of his face after another 30 minutes of not being able to sleep, only to be met with the sight of you staring up at the ceiling, eyes closed, frowning and muttering something.

"What is it, bella?" he said gently. "Another dream?"

"I want to dream," you replied, sighing. "But I can't sleep."

"You could've said so," he said softly, and turned his body towards you before taking your hand and pressing it on his chest.

With his other hand, he stroked your face, your hair, your neck. Dazai slowly snuggled towards you and nipped the skin of your cheek.

"Can you sing me a lullaby?" you asked.

"Double-suicide?"

"No," you said and rolled your eyes, turning towards him and lifting your leg up to his body to spoon him.

He tucked you in and smiled softly against your ear, humming a made-up tune.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ kissing

"One more," he said, and you smiled before kissing his lips. He was kneeling down on the floor in front of you as you sat on the chair of your table, unable to work due to the walking distraction in front of you. You pulled away and he whined once more.

"More."

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again. By now, your lipstick was staining several parts of his face, but he seemed intent on painting his whole face with the colour of your lips.

"More, more, more!" he mumbled, and you obliged, all too happy to do so. Dazai's hands reached your waist and squeezed both sides, before one went up to get tangled with your hair and the other pulled you closer to him by your shirt.

When you pulled away finally, panting and gasping for air, he merely giggled a little before pouting again.

"One last? Please?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ nightmare

Dazai was not unfamiliar with nightmares. Being in the mafia and losing so many people had turned him immune to getting upset over dreams. However, he wouldn't always be able to shrug off a nightmare - not when it involved you.

Dazai woke up in a cold sweat, mind reeling from the images of you tied to a chair, blood oozing out of your face. He frantically looked around and saw you staring right back at him, drinking water.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "You've been twitching around in your sleep for about a minute."

"H-huh?" he said, rubbing his eyes and pretending as if nothing was wrong. He got up slowly. "I'm okay. Just stressed."

"Didn't look like 'just' to me," you said, putting the glass back onto the nightstand and coming closer to him.

Dazai leaned in to touch your face, as if to make sure you were real and not just a figment of his imagination. He couldn't lose you, no matter what. You lay him down on the bed again gently and he obliged, snuggling up close to you like a lost kitten and burying his face in your chest.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[searchingsomewhere]

Perfect Picture

Rafayel x Reader

Part two in my lads fics based on my headcannons. You can also read Zayne's part here. Xavier is up next ;)

-Nero

CW: Smut. Mating press, oral (m receiving), Unexpected orgasm

If Rafayel could paint any picture of you, it'd be the image right in front of him.

You're crouched down just between his legs. A scarlet blush is scattered across your cheeks, eyes glassy and pupils blown wide with lust. Tired sunlight drifts through the floor to ceiling windows, casting a golden glow to your hair, your skin, as if some kind of warm wash had been applied over your visage.

Your pretty, pink lips are open around the head of his cock, tongue flickering out to tease him. It works. He throws his head back against the couch, eyes screwed shut. A low, whiney hiss leaves his lips.

"F-fuck..." he whines, fingers gripping the couch cushions in a white knuckle grip. He can't look at you in the eye- he might finish in your mouth if he does. His fingers tangle in your hair, pushing you further down his shaft. You oblige, taking more of his cock in your mouth. Wet, slurping sounds fill the art studio as you suck and work him well.

"I- I knew that mouth was- Oh shit- good for something," he pants, caressing your cheek.

You moan around his leaking tip. The squelching sound of your fingers plunging into your cunt fills the gaps between his moans. He can barely hear the pitter patter of your core dripping onto his hardwood floor. Your fingers brush by the hickeys he left on your inner thighs just moments before you were on your knees.

Rafayel pulls you off him for a moment. You gasp for air, barely getting a mouthful before he shoves you back onto the couch. He settles between your legs, pinning your knees to your chest.

"I need to be inside you," he murmurs against your lips, "Please."

"Fill me up," you pur, spreading your pussy with your fingers.

His eyes widen, pupils dilating, and he grips his length. You try to keep up that domineering facade that keeps you in charge, but his cock stretches every inch of you. Your eyes roll back, pussy gripping him as he bottomed out. Rafayel peppers your neck with sloppy kisses, burying his face in your shoulder.

God, you smell incredible. You moan and pant in his ear as he splits you open, his hips rolling slow and sensual against you. His thrusts are deep, constant.

"Oh fuck, like that," you cry, "That's so good. Ah!"

Your cunt wraps around him so nicely, so plush and velvety. His cock drags in and out slowly. Tip kissing your sweet spot over and over.

"Fuck, please don't stop," Rafayel murmurs in your ear, tracing his fingers up your arms to pins your hands to the couch with one hand. His other hand cups your breast, dark eyes drinking in your fucked expression. "I need you."

You were beautiful. Rafayel had always thought that, but this was a beauty only he would see. How the flush of your skin reddens your chest, your lips glistening with his cum, how soft your breast is in his hand. The afternoon light has you glowing under him. And those glassy, bright eyes of yours looking up at him with such admiration, so much pure emotion...

"You feel so fucking good, so- ah! Fill me up so fucking good-" You're blabbering on, praise tumbling from your mouth.

He's the one doing that to you. No one else. The thought makes his hips stutter. Every word you speak is pulling him further and further into madness, sending sparks of electricity up his spine. Rafayel lets go of your breast to rub circles around your clit. You squeeze around him impossibly tighter, moans turning into cries as he hammers into your swelling cunt.

His orgasm crashes over him in a tidal wave, ripping a long moan from his throat. Thick ropes of cum paint your insides, filling your cervix.

"Hah, shit, I-!" He buries his face into your shoulder.

The pressure on your clit and the warm sensation filling you is too much. You arch your back, clawing at his back. He's still fucking into you, slowly bring you through your high. Rafayel collapses against you with a soft grunt. You kiss the side of his head.

Beautiful eyes, shimmering in different shades of blue, pink, and purple, meet your own in a soft, loving gaze. Rafayel presses his forehead against yours as he gently slips his cock from your pussy.

"You are so beautiful," he says softly, "I'd do anything to paint this moment."

Your face flushes and you look away, suddenly shy. Before you know what you're saying, you go, "What's stopping you?"

Rafayel stops, eyes wide. He blinks.

"You serious?"

Before you can answer to change your mind, he's leaping off the couch, leaving you with your legs spread wide. He grabs a blank canvas. You watch him as he scrambles to find his paint.

"Right now is the best time, because of the way the light is hitting the back of your head..."

[beneathstarryskies]

I know I asked Bacon for Grimmjow and I hope it's okay to ask for different prompts… But I can't get enough of Murder Kitten (especially since I dropped this finally in BBS, LOOK AT THAT BUTT 🙂‍↕️)

Anyway, 3 or 5 with Grimm? 👉🏻👈🏻

"I want to taste you so badly." w/Grimmjow

A/N: I love Grimmjow a bunches! Also does finding that image attractive make us monster fuckers?

It’s been a long time coming. You’ve been driving Grimmjow crazy from the moment he set eyes on you. Constantly teasing him with those cute outfits and suggestive jokes. He hated how you got under his skin with such ease, like you weren’t even trying. The truth is, you were just waiting on him to make a move. The moment happened far sooner than you’d expected, but still later than you’d hoped. 

He has you pinned down on the couch, growling under his breath as the two of you makeout. His big, strong hands greedily grab at your body. The movie you’d put on when he arrived at your apartment still plays idly in the background, but all you can focus on is the warmth of his mouth as he kisses his way down your chin then to your neck. You don’t even realize he’s working on your pants until the cool air hits your thighs. 

“Grimmjow,” you whine, not knowing if you want to ask him to slow down or hurry up. 

“I want to taste you so badly,” Grimmjow growls and pulls your pants the rest of the way off followed closely by your panties. He lets a gentle purr roll through his chest as he smells your arousal, so musky and sweet on his nose. 

“Hurry,” you moan. 

He spreads your legs wider so he can slot himself between them. He lets them rest on his shoulders before he leans in. His tongue is slow and gentle between your folds for the first time. He savors the way you gasp from the contact. Your hands tangle in his teal hair as he begins to lap at your arousal. You whine and moan just for him. He’s being driven crazy from the taste of you. You can see him grinding against the couch while he eats you out. He intends this to take some time. 

[forusomimiya]

@tsukiran ship & prompt: “Ruin me” w/ Osamu Miya ˚₊˚✧🍙✧˖°🍂

Yeah, Osamu Miya is a switch boy. I mean, he loves to press your face into the mattress, while he fucks your ass and ignores your pleas. He loves to hold on to the headboard of the bed to push himself deeper inside you. He loves to spank you as he listens to you whimper with his cock in your pussy and his thick fingers wavering in your ass.

He loves it all. But he also likes to feel dirty sometimes.

"Holy shit baby” how to explain it... I think it all started with a bet, maybe with a "i dare you to do this" where Osamu lost, and you couldn't have been prouder to have won.

"Come on pretty boy, just one more"

"Hah... I - I can't”

"Yes, of course you can. Give me one more my love, I want to see how I can make you cum again" his cock was red, sensitive, but still hard. With his legs spread wide and you between them, you kept demanding that he cum a third time. His belly contracted with each approaching orgasm, but failed when he focused on the pain.

"Do you need me to provoke you more? Mhm?" Your hand flew to his breast, where your fingers cruelly pinched his nipple. "Do you like this? Or maybe... this" without stopping masturbating him, the hand that was occupied with his nipple moved down to his abdomen, tracing that happy trail with your index finger, letting it tangle between the public hair, and descending until you reached his balls. You massaged them with the palm of your hand, playing with them over your fingers, gripping them, squeezing them.

But that was not enough.

"I will make you cum, samu, I assure you" and how could he not turn against his will, if your mouth descended next to your hand, and with your tongue you drew circles on it, while your other hand was still busy milking him, creating lewd slapping sounds at the base of his cock every time your fist came down and bounced on the cum accumulated semen under it.

“Hah - baby ‘m-“

"Yes... keep it up, keep thinking it's my pussy fucking you. Come on samu, do it for me" it was not possible to resist your innocent pleading tone.

“Fu-uuck, so close… ruin me honey, ruin me s’ good please, please” and in that moment, when his grey eyes met yours, with the obscene image of you sucking his balls as you persistently masturbated him, and with his sloppy image, sitting awkwardly on the couch, his perfect muscles glistening with sweat, and his fat cock swollen under your hand, he knew he was getting a taste for being abused by you.

“Yesyesyes yar mouth baby, need yar mouth here!” You hurried up and ran to suck him, savouring his bitter taste as you watched him lose himself in your drunken eyes, moaning like a whore at the sensation of having your mouth full of him once more.

You just need your sweet boy to cry for you to be between his legs whenever he needs you.

[boytoyhalo]

I think pac and fit are constantly surprised at the effort both of them put in to knowing and caring for each other but they're confused about why the other would be surprised. Fit learns Portuguese, Pac thinks that that's wild, Fit thinks it's just for easier communication and basic respect, and doesn't get why it's a big deal. Pac learns sign langauge because deaf Fit headcanon rules my brain, Fit is caught way off guard and doesn't get why Pac would do that, Pac is now on the side of "it's just basic respect and communication". Pac is taller than Fit and loves being big spoon because he needs to be hugging someone or something when he's sleeping or he gets really sad. Fit tries to teach Pac rock climbing and it doesn't work, so they decide to go get coffee instead. Ramón is so on board for Pac being his new dad and is in cahoots with Richas to get them together. Both of them are so sad that it's going so slow. They try to get sleepovers as much as possible to get Fit and Pac together more often. Ramón at some point is hanging out with Richas and Pac and starts talking about his dad being cool, and there's a bit of miscommunication and then it's clarified that Ramón is straight up calling Pac his dad. Pac is confused about this, because isn't Fit your dad? And Ramón is like "?? No. He's Fit. You're dad. Or pai, but Richas calls you that so you're dad to me" and it's just a circle of conversation where Richas and Ramón are just calling Pac and Fit their parents because they've decided that they're not moving fast enough, so the two of them will just have it be instead.

Pac puts stickers or engravings in his leg of his family members and at some point there's a(nother) F on there for Fit. Fit doesn't usually mess with his arm that much because he's a "as long as it functions, it doesn't need anything else" guy, but one of the scratches on it looks suspiciously on purpose and P shaped. When they're finally A Thing, Mike spends about two weeks pestering Fit about letting him mess with his arm because it's horrifically out of date and he wants to fix it up soooo bad. Fit gets it back and all of the other scratches have been fixed/sanded/ect but the P has been very much left alone, if not further engraved and Mike is just making a face about it. And Fit can't say shit.

oh theres absolutely no way fit isnt at least partially deaf, man has been in the vicinity of wayyy too many explosions to not have hearing loss and at least moderately severe tinnitus.

I respect your vision of pac being the taller one however personally i like to stick to their cc-accurate height difference of fit being Pretty Tall and pac being itty bitty. I also dont think they really spoon i think pac falls asleep starfished on top of fit and fit likes the deep pressure bcuz it feels safe and they wake up in just a fucking tangle of limbs cuz they both move like crazy in their sleep without letting go.

Ramon only ever calls fit dad in serious situations so i dont think he would call pac dad but i fucking love the image of that happening so im rejecting my own characterization for the sake of cuteness thank you for putting that in my head. also YES RICHAS + RAMON SLEEPOVERS <3333 they conspire to get pac and fit in romantic situations and then act all grossed out when they flirt (at least ramon definitely does richas probably lives for it)

fit having a p engraved in his arm is adorable, I like to think it would be the little pacman logo instead, pac scratches it in one day before theyre even together just out of boredom and fit doesn't even notice him doing it and whenever it's pointed out he just pretends he doesn't see it <3333 "I have no idea what you're talking about"

[sherrendipities]

lola's post fr has me thinking what kind of pet i ammmm 🥺 i always likened myself to a puppy bc when i get so excited n giddy (ie every time Daddy or Sir talk to me hehe) i Feel in my SOUL like a lil pup that's jumping on their owner in excitement. also tail wagging. if i had a tail she'd be wagging aggressively every time they so much as look at me !!

buuut. that said. hard agree with lola that i'd yellow at being told to bark. idk that's like. blegh :p doing it, i mean!!! i love seeing other adorable lil subs barking, but i think i'd just feel weird for me.

fetch is smthn i never even considered? i've always thought it'd be cute to be asked to fetch things for a Dom, just in the sense of being able to service them in day-to-day life. like if we're snuggling and you ask me to "be a good girl and fetch my phone/a glass of water/ etc," i'd jump up n be soooo eager to serve 💕 though if what ppl mean is the inherent act of playing fetch as erotic play then idk it'd feel silly and it'd take me out of the moment lol. i think it'd be super fun to watch another sub do it!!! ugh now i'm imagining laying my head on Daddy's lap, his hand gently petting my head, while he makes another of his subs play fetch hehe 🥰 one of our common friends is the world's cutest lil puppy (u kno who u are xoxo) and it'd be such an adorable look on her!!!

that said, i'm a giant cat person n i have some cat tendencies lol. genuinely the more im thinking of it the more im like ohhhh i rly am kitty. i could make a list fr. like hear me out:

nuzzlinggggg omg. yk how cats rub their cheeks on things incl their owners as a scent marking thing?? v me core. wanna feel his cock rubbing against my cheeks before i start licking n taking him into my mouth 🥰 but also i love love love hands cradling n caressing my face!!! i always thought of it as a hand fetish thing (it is lol) but it also lowkey feels like i'm a lil kitty getting her cheeks pet

i love making biscuits!! sort of lol. but fr one of my most frequently recurring fantasies is laying down with someone, our legs tangled together, my head in the crook of their neck, n my hand running up and down their chest 💕 n now that i think abt it, very kitty coded. we've all had a kitty snuggling us n started purring n making biscuits. bonus points that i dont scratch u while doing it (well, maybe a little if u want 😋)

i am a purring machine lol. am i vastly disappointed i can't make the exact sound of a purring cat? deeply. but when i'm rly relaxed n cozy n very horny, i have to actively hold myself back from mewling nonstop 🥺 just tiny lil whines every time i sigh out a breath. n i for one think i deserve sooo many pets n that i shouldn't have to suppress that urge ever !!!

i 1000% have the energy of a kitty that loves snuggling. like why would i sit anywhere except ur lap?? if ur sitting anywhere i'm right there fr.

last but not least is the obvious fact that i own multiple sets of kitty headbands lol. they're just so cute n i used to wear them out all the time !!! i have puffy curly hair n i always loved the look of two cute lil kitty ears poking out from the bushes hehe

bonus point: my aforementioned fav puppysub mutual n i are both Daddy's pets, n i think the image of Daddy owning a kitty n a puppy who like to play with each other is tremendously cute. i rest my case your honor.

[a1307s]

You Help

(Conner Kent)

[Art is not mine! Credit to Celestial Valkyrie]

Requested by: RavenMoore7799

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 3312

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Self harm scars

Mentions of depression

Mentions of suicide attempts/thoughts

———————————————————————

Y/N's heartbeat fills my ears as she gets closer. My breath hicks as I think about her coming to see me. Usually that's not the case since my ears pick up almost every sound in the mountain. For whatever reason my breathing always gets heavier, and my heart rate picks up when I hear her heart though.

Well, I kind of know why. I've talked over my reactions and feelings about Y/N with Wally and Clark. Wally wasn't much help; he just said to sleep with her and see if I still feel that way. I don't know why a nap would change anything, but I don't know what he means half the time anyway. Clark told me that "it can't get much better than a bat-member" which also doesn't make any sense.

"Conner!" Y/N sings out as she knocks on my bedroom door.

"Come in," I say back, sitting up in my bed. She slides open the door, her image filling in the door frame. Plaid red pj pants cup her thighs and a fuzzy white long-sleeved shirt big enough to fit me drowns her, hiding the top half of her figure. I don't mind though; I prefer looking her thighs.

I talked to Kaldur about these thoughts, and he said that I was a "thigh guy". Unlike the other members of the team, Kaldur tries to explain things to me. For the "thigh guy" thing, he explained that it means that I like the thighs of a girl more than their other features. I don't think that's right though. My favorite feature of Y/N is her hair. That just got a sigh out of Kaldur and a further explanation of the whole "thigh, ass, tit guy" thing. I kind of understand it but I'm still a bit confused about it.

"Let's watch a movie!" Y/N says, walking across my room. She slips out of her slippers before crawling into the bed with me. Her limbs tangle with mine as she crawls across me. I like the feeling of her against me. "What kind of movie should we watch?" She asks, leaning across me to grab the TV remote from my nightstand.

Every now and again this'll happen. Y/N will stroll in and surprise me with a movie night. If I'm lucking, Y/N will end up sitting up against me. If I'm really lucky she'll fall asleep in my bed. Those are my favorite movie nights. A warm feeling fills my chest on the mornings I wake up to her still asleep in my bed.

"I don't care," I answer, repeatedly blinking as I stare at Y/N's butt. Maybe I'm a butt guy instead of a thigh guy. I'm wrapped in a warmth that smells like flowers, but soon the warmth - and smell - is pulled away as she sits back down.

"How about a horror movie?" She asks, turning on the tv and booting up Netflix.

"What's a horror movie?" I ask, turning towards her. My heart feels loud in my ears as I take her in. Her hair looks really soft, and I really want to touch it. I want to run my fingers through it like I've seen Wally do to Artemis.

Y/N hums, thinking over how she's going to explain it as she flips through the different options. "It's a movie that's made to scary you," She explains, settling on a movie called 'The Boy'. That doesn't sound scary. "I'm going to turn off the lights," Y/N adds, crawling back over me.

Her hands feel soft as they slide over the exposed parts of my legs. Before she stopped by, I was planning to lay down for the night so I'm only in shorts. Robin calls them 'basketball shorts' but I'm not sure why. There's no basketballs on them. Maybe I should put a shirt on. "Y/N, do you want me to put a shirt on?" I ask, turning to look at her again. I fully planned to look at her face, but my eyes drop to her legs again. They are really nice legs but I'm not sure why I like them so much.

"I don't mind if you don't. If you feel uncomfortable, put one on. If you don't, leave it off," She answers, flipping the lights off. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they do adjust, Y/N is back at the side of my bed. Instead of crawling over me she crawls into my lap. It is a lucky night.

I stiffen up, not sure how to move or place my arms. Y/N squirms a bit, rubbing against my legs and groin. This happens every time we sit like this, and every time my groin feels like it's full of electricity. This is something I mentioned to Canary. She didn't answer me though, but she did send Arrow to talk to me. We had a very awkward and confusing conversation, but he did try to explain everything and answered all my questions. Apparently, the electricity I feel is called 'arousal' and it causes me to be 'turned on'.

Y/N finally gets comfortable, laying her head against my chest. Her legs are tangled up with mine, her thighs on top of my own, making them look plumper than usual. Her butt is on my groin, which is new. She hasn't been this on top of me before. It causes more electricity, making me worried. Arrow said when guys get aroused their penises get hard and sometimes it's awkward when it happens during not sex. "Can you move down a bit?" I ask, which Y/N complies too. She shifts, moving so my groin area is pressed into her back instead of her butt.

"Are you ready to start the movie?" She asks, looking up at me.

"No, where do I put my hands?" I ask, my head a little foggy with thoughts of asking Y/N to shift back to her previous spot. Y/N hums, setting the remote down before wrapping her fingers around my wrist. Her fingers feel and look so small against me. She pulls my hands down, placing them on her upper thighs. "No," I murmur, sliding them down to her knees.

"Okay," she says, shrugging and grabbing the remote to start the movie. Y/N relaxes against me as the movie starts. She slumps some, taking the pressure off my groin and causing her knees to prop up. My hands slide back to their original spot from the movement. I stay frozen, not sure if Y/N wants me to move them or if I want to move them.

I stay focused on her face. The tv light reflects against her eyes, distorting some of the coloring. It makes me a bit upset, I like her eye color and I can't see it very well because of the tv. My hands feel heavy and numb, so I flex my fingers a bit. Y/N's skin bunches in my hands as it squishes through my fingers. She lets out a soft hum and tilts her head a bit from the movement, causing her hair to slide off her neck. Is that good or bad?

The next couple minutes are spent with me repeating this movement. I want to hear that hum again, but I don't get too. Maybe she doesn't like it. "Are you upset?" I ask, worried that I'm not supposed to be doing this.

"No," Y/N says, glancing up at me before looking back at the tv. "Why do you think I'm upset?"

"You won't make the noise again," I explain, squeezing her thighs once more. She makes the hum again, but I don't think it's the same as the first time.

Cutting my loses on getting the noise this way, I slowly move my hands to her waist. I sit them still for a minute, waiting to see how she'll react. She doesn't make any reaction, so I try squeezing them like I did her thighs. No sound comes out of her, making me a bit frustrated. "Make the sound," I say, my tone harsher than I meant. Y/N hums again, but it's not the real sound just like last time. "That's a fake sound, not the real sound," I huff, moving my hands back to her knees.

"I don't know what to tell you, Sup," she says, shifting so her back is pressed against me again. Her knees fall flat, and her head is resting against my shoulder.

"Are you uncomfortable?" I ask, my face tightening as I replay what's been happening. Maybe I made her uncomfortable. Maybe she thinks I'm mad at her cause I can't get the sound out of her again.

"I'm just sore from spar practice today and sitting like this doesn't help," She mumbles, keeping her eyes on the movie.

"Oh," I whisper, moving my hands to her hips before thinking about it. I start massaging them like I've seen Robin do for her. I can't do it exactly like Robin though since Y/N is usually laying on her back instead of sitting up. "Do you want to move?" I ask, moving my hands back to her knees once my senses come to me.

"Ya that would be nice," she says, moving out of my lap. Despite me recommending it, I'm a bit sad that she leaves my lap. Y/N shifts, laying on her back with her head hanging off the bed. She continues watching the movie even though she's upside down which I find a bit funny. Her legs are spread out on my bed and her hands are rested under her chest.

I stay in my spot, looking over her. Her thighs are still puffy, making me want to touch them again. Her breasts are propped further up, causing an indent in her shirt. "Are you going to come sit by me?" Y/N asks, lifting her head up to look at me. Without the screen directly in front of them I can see the color this time. It makes me happy.

"Sure," I mumble, sliding down the bed so I'm closer to her. I sit next to her, my legs crossed as I try to focus on the movie. It doesn't happen though, I'm too distracted. "Can I touch you?" I ask, inching my hand closer to her.

"Ya, that's fine."

I slide my hand up her side, taking in the softness of her shirt. My eyes flicker between the screen and Y/N as I rub across her stomach. It upsets me that I can't see her face. It makes it harder to see her reaction. I continue sliding my hand around; side to side, up and down. She shifts a bit when I get too closer to her sides. "Good or bad?" I ask, confused by her movements.

"My sides are ticklish, so it's okay." I hum in response, keeping my eyes on her as I skim her sides again. Like before, she shifts away from the touch. Her twitching is cute, and I enjoy seeing her move around like this.

     Y/N's shirt rides up a bit as I keep touching her sides. Her skin looks super soft. My eyes stay locked on the strip of exposed skin as I continue moving my hand around her stomach. "Can I touch your skin?" I ask, glancing toward her face.

     She hums, thinking it over for a moment. "Depends on where," Y/N finally answers, but without looking up this time. The answer doesn't really help me. How am I suppose to know what skin I can't and can touch?

I continue running my hands over her as I think over her answer. My fingertips brush her arm, flashing an idea in my head. "Can I touch the skin on your arms?" I ask, looking towards her for a reaction even though I know I won't get to see one.

"No," Y/N answers shortly, stiffening under my touch a bit.

This confuses me a lot. People touch each others' arms all the time. Canary touches the skin of my arms to calm me down during practice. M'gann touches Artemis's arms when they're cooking together. Maybe it's just Y/N, but Robin touches her arms all the time. Like, all the time. The first thing he does everyday is go up to Y/N and run his fingers under her sleeves.

"Do you not like your arm touched?" I ask, scouting my fingers back down to her stomach. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by touching them."

"I don't mind you touching them over my sleeves."

"What's the difference between touching them over or under your sleeves?" Why are people so confusing? I don't enjoy them or this.

Y/N lifts her self up, folding her legs underneath her. She's constantly blinking as she stares at me and her eyes look wetter than normal. Am I making her cry? I don't want to make her cry. "I'm sorry," I rush out, pulling my hand off of her and shifting backwards some.

     She takes a second to compose herself. "For some people like me, there is a difference. Most people... dealing with the things I am don't like people seeing or touching their arms."

     "But Robin touches your arms. He does it everyday," I point out, even more confused. I don't like being confused; it makes me feel dumb.

"It's different with Robin."

"Cause you like him?" I ask, making myself a little angry. Does she go and watch movies with Robin on nights they stay in the mountain? Does she sit in his lap when they watch movies? Does Y/N take naps with him? What do Robin and Y/N do on nights they don't stay here? What do they do together during the day? What do-

"Ew no," Y/N says, cutting off my thoughts. "Robin is pretty much my brother. Adopted or not, that's gross."

"What?"

     "Ya the big bad bat took in Rob when he was nine and than took me in a year later so I've pretty much grown up with Robin. Kind of hard to see him as anything other than my brother."

Oh...

     "Well, why does he always touché your arms when he walks into the mountain?" I ask, still confused about that part of my thinking.

     Y/N hums again before falling quiet. She stays silent for a couple minutes, occasionally opening her mouth to say something before closing it again. "I have... scarring and... wounds on my arms," She finally answers, before lying back down again. Her head is hanging upside down over the bed again but her legs are still crossed.

     "So? Don't all heroes have scares and wounds from missions?" I ask, still confused. I have scars, Robin has scars, the whole team has scars from past injuries. Wally is temporarily on medical leave from a mission injury. It happens to all of us so why is this different than that?

     "They're not from missions, Conner," Y/N whispers, her head still hung so I can't see her face anymore. 

     "Then what are they from?"

"Me."

I sit there, rolling the word over in my head. Y/N is causing the wounds? The scarring? Why would she do that? How does she do that? Does Robin know she's doing it? He has to know with how often he touches her. Does Batman know? Or Canary?

"Why would you do that?" I finally push out, my tongue feeling heavy from the words. The thought of Y/N hurting herself feels heavy in my chest. Why in the world would she do that?

She stays quiet for a minute or two before sitting up again. Her eyes are pink and puffy. Her cheeks are wet with tear paths present on her face. Did I made her cry with my questions? I don't want her to cry.

     "I... um... have depression. It's hard to explain but pretty much it makes the world seem really sad for me I guess. Sad isn't the right word..." Y/N spaces out for a bit, her face scrunched up as she thinks. "I have a lot of negative thoughts about the world which makes it hard for me to enjoy or do things. It makes it hard for me to want to live like 'normal' people do." She says, air quoting the word normal.

     "So you hurt yourself because you want to die?"

     Y/N sighs, scrunching her face in thought again. "Yes and no... sometimes... sometimes I hurt myself to make the feelings stop. Other times I hurt myself in hope it'll kill me. And then sometimes I do stupid stuff in hopes it'll kill me too so that Robin and Batman will feel like it was a mistake instead of a suicide attempt."

"What's suicide?" I ask, leaning forward to grab her in hopes it'll make the rock on my chest go away. I pull her forward, forcing her into my lap. Y/N feels warm against me despite the tears soaking into my shirt.

     "Umm..." She starts, trying to calm herself down enough to get the words out. "It's when someone kills themselves."

     "And an attempt is when they failed too?"

     "Ya."

     Her answer doesn't help loosen the knots forming in my stomach. "Have you attempted suicide?" I ask carefully, not wanting to upset her more or make her uncomfortable.

     Like with the rest of my questions, it takes Y/N a second to register it and answer. "Ya a couple times."

     "By injuring yourself?"

     "Sometimes. Sometimes I'll jump off the Gotham dam... sometimes I'll try taking pills... sometimes I let myself get badly hurt on missions... a lot of ways I guess."

     I pull her closer, pressing her heart against my chest incase my ears are lying to me. We sit in silence as I think over all our missions; over all of Y/N's injuries during those missions. How many of those times were accidents? How many were on purpose?

     "If you don't see any good in the world, are you only a hero in hopes it'll kill you?" I stumble out, not sure if I feel angry or sad or both.

     "No... I do see and feel good things too. They're just over shadowed a lot of the time. I'm a hero to help people and it's probably not right that I use that as a way to hurt myself."

     Once again silence falls into the room, the only noise being Y/N's soft sniffles. "What good things?" I ask once the chokehold of quiet gets to me.

     "What?" She asks, lifting her head up to look at me again.

     "What good things do you see and feel?"

"Robin," Y/N answers without a thought. "And his laughter. It can be a bit creepy sometimes but I like hearing him happy." She scrunches her face again, thinking before talking again. "The flowers Batman gives me every week. Those make me feel good too."

     "What's your favorite thing? What makes you feel good the most?" I ask, knowing she'll probably say Robin again.

     "Our movie nights. Especially the ones that end in a sleep over. Those are really good. They make me really happy."

     "Why?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Y/N shifts in my lap so she can look up at me. Her eyes aren’t as pink as they were before which I take as a good sign. “You help the bad thoughts go away.”

[idyllic-ghost]

CONGRATS ON 2K!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 in celebration i am here to humbly request an angsty blurb for the following: woozi + fantasy au + "i had a dream about you" + "what do you mean you're not supposed to make it out alive?" (or if you are more inspired to write for a different svt member that's fine too i love them all 💜)

a/n: THANK YOU SAVV !! it's so scary that you picked my favorite things, can you read my mind ??? also- i had so much trouble keeping this a blurb, but i tried my best !!

title: one final moment

pairing: king!woozi x elf!reader

warnings: death, gender neutral reader but leaning masc, angst, forbidden love-ish

word count: 1.6k

join in on the celebration!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The water was cool around your legs as you waded through the brook. Although there were rocks that you could walk over instead, you knew it would be reckless - the stones were covered in greenery and had gotten slippery from the water. You stopped right in front of the edge of the other side of the brook. The body of water was the only thing dividing two kingdoms - that of humans and elves. Looking back to your side of the stream, you could tell elves were watching over you between the trees.

Turning back to where you were going, you finally took the step across kingdom lines. As if on cue, out of the trees arrived the king on his white horse. You smiled and straightened out your clothes - a traditional royal robe from your elven kingdom.

"Hello, your majesty," you greeted.

Lee Jihoon got off his horse and approached you with haste, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he had gotten close enough. You stumbled back with a soft laugh but stood steady on your feet. His comforting scent filled your nose, and your hands tangled themselves in his long, black hair. Closing your eyes, you let relaxation take over you. You were glad that the guards you had brought with you knew when to keep quiet.

"I've missed you," Jihoon murmured in the crook of your neck, "So much."

You didn't respond, but he knew you felt the same way from the way you placed a kiss on his temple. The king was notoriously a lonesome wolf, at least to his people. He never married or got an heir - he never followed the steps that had been laid out for him. It didn't seem to matter, the people loved him anyway. He was a righteous king.

"I had a dream about you," you whispered, "And you must listen closely."

Everyone in your kingdom, every last elf, had some sort of power. Whether that'd be an elemental power or darker magic, everyone was born with something. You had foretelling dreams and used them frequently - you didn't get all of the contexts, and you couldn't decide what your vision would be about. However, whenever you did get a dream, you acted on it.

"I know that you have called a meeting of the kingdoms. I need you to send an invitation to my kingdom as well- I know that our countries don't-"

"Consider it done, my love." Jihoon let go of you to look at you properly.

His hand cupped your cheek and, by the way he was looking at you, it felt impossible to look away from his eyes. You hadn't gotten to finish your sentence, but now all of your words were lost. Tears flooded in your eyes at the thought of the foreboding nightmare, and you hid your face in his chest to run away from the images you had seen.

"I wonder if you'd be so sure if you knew what would happen," you sniffled.

"Then tell me."

"You know I can't." You looked back up at him. "But it has to happen, and I must be there for you."

"Fine," he sighed, "I trust you."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Seeing the inside of Jihoon's castle for the first time was not what you had expected. The decor did not match the man at all, and it left you feeling on edge - although it was unsure if that was because you knew what was to come.

You walked with your head high, knowing that everyone was staring. If you just closed your eyes, you could dream yourself back to the forest. In your heart, you knew that you didn't have to do this - but you couldn't even force yourself to leave. This had to be done, or you could never forgive yourself.

Jihoon greeted each royal attending himself, looking everyone in the eye and welcoming them with a warm yet stern smile. You were the last to join him in the hall. He grabbed your hand, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine when it touched yours. When he looked into your eyes, you never wanted to look away.

"Thank you for coming." Was all he said.

"Thank you for having me." Was all you answered.

You didn't have to say more. When you saw how he looked at you, you already knew all that he wanted to do. Squeezing his hand, you finally let go and went to your seat. Everything was as it should be, as you remembered from your dream.

The night went on, you talked and ate and laughed. All in a very superficial, polite way. Even if you wanted to, you were too nervous to act normally and enjoy yourself. On top of that, you found yourself avoiding Jihoon - but when you saw him sneak out of the room, while the rest were busy with poorly handling their ale, you followed him - which he quickly noticed.

He had hidden away in the garden. While there was only a door separating you from the others, an open door at that, it felt as if you could live in your bubble for a moment. You sat down on the bench beside him. In your dream he had been sitting alone, so you knew to keep him company now.

"You look striking tonight, your highness," he said and grasped your hand in his.

"You look quite handsome as well, your majesty." You smiled knowingly at him.

Jihoon intertwined his fingers with yours, seemingly building up the courage to say something. You looked around you, before bringing his hand to your lips and kissing the back of it. A small act of affection that left the king's ears burning red.

"I'm glad I invited you tonight," he said, "You haven't been bothered by anyone here yet, have you?"

"Not just yet." You shook your head.

He looked at you as if he wanted to say something more, to question your somber expression or the way you kept squeezing his hand harder and harder. However, he never did.

"This is for the better," you hummed, "You'll understand later on, but... if anyone's supposed to make it out of here alive, it's not me."

"What do you mean you're not supposed to make it out of here alive?" he was quick to ask.

"Just a moment, my love," you whispered, for if you spoke any louder you feared it would come out as a sob, "Just let me have a moment with you where we're not of any importance to anyone but ourselves."

Jihoon watched you with horror as you leaned your body against his. Nevertheless, he put his emotions to the side for you - putting his hand on your back and bringing you in even closer. You felt his tears fall on your shoulder - even he knew that there was nothing he could do, not when you had put your stubborn mind to it and especially not when it was fate.

"Why would you do this for me?" he mumbled.

"You're the king, I'm nothing but an ambassador on the royal court," you chuckled and looked at him again with teary eyes, "At least, that's the simple answer. Words cannot describe my feelings for you, your majesty, they would not do you justice."

He cupped your face in the palms of his hands and wiped away tears that you never realized you had wept. If anyone were to be with you the moment that your life on Earth ended, it would be him - you were happy it was you and the king.

"I love you, you stupid bastard." Jihoon laughed through his tears. "Why do you use fate against me in this way?"

"Don't loathe fate, my love," you murmured, "It's what brought us together."

The clocks rang from the bell tower on the other side of the castle - and you leaned in to give him one last kiss. After pulling away, you reached around your neck and took off your necklace. A pendant with the stone you were given after your birth - a protective gem. As you reached over him and tied the necklace around his neck, you felt something sharp shoot into your back. Your body had shielded his at just the right moment. The poison arrow had settled just below your chest, and you were already losing a lot of blood - it covered Jihoon's hands as he desperately tried to do something to help.

"Don't call upon anyone," you whispered in a strained voice as you watched Jihoon panic and try to get help, "Stay with me instead. Just for a moment, right?"

Jihoon settled down beside you again, handling your fading body with a gentle touch. Now it was your turn to cup his cheek in your hand.

"Listen to me, Jihoon. Take in each one of my words." You wiped away his tears. "Find someone to marry, and make sure to get an heir. I don't care if you love her but love that child. Make them half of the ruler that you are and I'm sure that we'll all be fine. I'll watch over you... I am the dew in the grass on a Spring morning, I am the rumble of thunder during Summer showers, I am the red leaves of Autumn, and I am the snow that falls in Winter. I'll watch over you for every season that passes- and when you have reached your last, after a good life, you'll see me again, my love."

He couldn't get another word in, as he had bit down on his tongue to not let out any sobs or cries for help. You smiled at him and thought that there was no other fate you wanted than to die being held by your lover.

[acherontiarchivist]

Omg okay! It’s my first time asking stuff and I’m super nervous and hope I’m not bothering in any way😭

I just love how you write for Gabriel so much. He’s so underrated and I love vim so much! I was wondering if you could write something for him with a chubby s/o who struggles with self love and always looks herself in the mirror, always feeling discouraged at what she sees. It’s a struggle I have everyday and I’m trying my best to get over it💛 can be SFW or NSFW thank you, and sending lots of love!💛

First of all thank you for this ask because ALL OF THIS SAME, second thank you for your patience :')

This took me a while to write but I think it has been a great journey and has made me feel a little bit better myself, so I hope it does the same for you! Sending lots of love back your way! 💜

Also, this turned out to be almost purely NSFW :^)

MINORS DNI! NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Content: body checking, discussion of body image, cunnilingus (receiving), fingering (giving and receiving) let me know if I should tag anything else!

Word count: 1.3k

You have a routine you like to stick to most mornings: make your bed, meditate for 10 minutes, eat a light breakfast while scrolling your social media feed, and so on. Mornings with Gabriel, however, are always a little bit delayed. He keeps you in bed longer, clinging to you under the warm blankets and fussing if he senses you try to get up. You've come to accept the morning cuddles– it's much better than meditation anyway. 

Today marks a full week that he's slept with you and stayed over most of the day, so suffice to say he's learned all of your daily habits. He has also taken notice of your habit of taking your measurements and recording them everyday– mostly because he loves to see you naked. The first time he saw you taking your measurements he had plenty of questions, especially since you were reluctant to let him watch and wanted to do it in privacy. Gabriel doesn't understand why you do it in the first place. He gazes at your reflection in the mirror each time, wondering why you always look so disappointed with yourself when all he sees is your glowing beauty. It's nearly impossible for him to wrap his head around it when he finds your body so fascinating.

There can never be enough excuses for him to feel your bare skin, especially your thighs. It was only now, after the second time he has watched you pull the measuring ribbon around your hips that he saw the golden opportunity.

"Let me help you with that," he sinks down onto his knees beside you and gingerly tugs the ribbon from your loose grip as you record your hip measurements. Before you even know it he has lifted your leg onto the side of the bed and snaked his soft hand around your inner thigh with one end of the ribbon. The sudden sensation sent chills up your spine.

"Oh, fuck," your free hand shoots out to brace yourself against the wall.

"Sorry," he can't help but giggle a bit.

"It's ok, I just… wasn't expecting that is all." You try to play it off, but the blush at the sight of him on his knees and cornered between your leg and the wall is too strong to fight back. He knew what he was doing all along and doesn't intend to stop now. However, he does drop his ruse, letting slip the ribbon to the floor as he nibbles his way up your thigh.

"Hey! You didn't tell me the numb–"

"Shhh. It's not important."

"It is to me," you struggle to get out between the pricks and tickles he leaves with his teeth. Though the closer he gets to your core, the more you agree with him.

"What's the point anyway? What are you doing? Is it fun? It can't be more fun than this."

It is so not fair that he can speak so freely without having to stop. You are afforded no time to gather your thoughts through his 'help.' Instead your mind wanders, focuses on his touch, your free hand tangling in his hair. All remaining pretense is thrown out the window when his tongue graces your bud and two fingers ease their way inside of you.

"Does it feel good?"

"God, yes."

His laugh crackles through the speakers of your alarm clock radio, "That's not what I was talking about. We were having a conversation, remember?"

"Fuck you."

"It's not my turn yet." His pace quickens and his other arm reaches around your leg to squeeze your ass.

"You wanna bet?" Your grip tightens around his hair in preparation to pull his head back, earning a rare vocalization to escape his throat. His moan is something special. Steady in your new shift of mood your hand leaves the wall to instead lift his chin and force eye contact. Gabriel's full attention had now shifted from eagerly finger-fucking you to following your every word. Honestly, he didn't think he'd get this far and failed to plan ahead. But he loves it when you take control. It's amusing how quickly he goes from smugly and confidently knocking down your walls to falling into putty in your hands.

"Get on the bed." Just as soon as you release your grip on his hair he climbs over the edge of the bed, not even bothering to stand up first. You follow just behind him, not bothering to let him find his balance, your hands reaching around him to undo the button of his pants and pull down the zipper. He falls forward (backward?) and rests his head on your shoulder; moaning, drooling as your fingers slip beneath his underwear. You have no idea how he manages it without pain, but his hands find their way to your breasts. His arms nearly become trapped between your bodies as you try to pull him closer. "That has got to be uncomfortable," your breath ghosts his ear.

"I don't care. I just love to feel your body," he pulls his arms out and instead squeezes your hips.

You blush at his comment; you know it's only a sweet nothing, but it's exactly what you needed to hear, and coming from him it means the world to you. Your fingers work their circular motions with more care and deliberation from then on, unraveling him in your arms. One arm holds him close while you leave bites and kisses on his neck, all the while gradually picking up your pace and increasing the pressure on his bud. You're so lost in the sound of his moans and whines that you barely notice him writhing underneath your touch. His hips jerk and his legs grow noticeably shaky making you hesitate for a moment, trying not to overstimulate him.

"No, no, no, don't stop, don't stop," His voice fades in and out of the static on the radio and you brace yourself– you know the feedback is going to come through loud when he finally spills over. Once he does, he falls back on the bed to catch his breath. You take the opportunity to straddle him and squeeze his ass.

"Not fair… I initiated, I was supposed to make you cum first."

"You snooze, you lose," you stick your tongue out at him playfully.

"Fuck you," he sticks his tongue out back at you to the best of his ability.

"Hmm. Yeah, I think it is my turn now." You lay down on the bed beside him, "As you were, then." He wastes no time crawling between your legs to finish what he started, though this time he jumps straight into the pace he had been working up before.

"Ahh," you hiss, "you in a hurry or something?"

"This is your punishment for interrupting me," he didn't need a verbal response to know how much that turned you on; he could feel it in the way you contracted around his fingers. You sing for him anyway.

"Oh, fuck, Gabriel," you wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze. His words of encouragement are drowned out by your own moans. You reach blindly to grab the radio and drag it closer, desperate to hear his voice.

"You're so close, I can feel it already. Cum for me. Scream for me. I want you to feel so, so good." Every word pushes you closer to release until his fingers push on that sweet spongy spot in your core. All of your senses momentarily go fuzzy and distant as you recover from the high. Soon you feel Gabriel scoot up to your side. You roll onto your side and pull him close, earning a sigh of contentment.

"Hey," he speaks up, pulling your leg over his body and  idly rubbing your thigh, "Next time can you sit on my face?"

"Sure thing," you laugh and kiss his forehead.

[lmelodie]

Back Together BlackIce things Pt. 2

Late night posting addition. Part one is Right Here. Will there be a part three? Four even? Depends on how long their gonna rot my brain for. We'll see.

I just wanna inform everyone that the only way the scenario would go concerning a BlackIce, Who Did This to You? moment would be one asking this and the other responding like: YOU DID ASSHOLE! DO YOU SERIOUSLY NOT REMEMBER THIS??

And the other who asked has to go like: ….Oh! Oh yeah! Huh. Die mad about it then >:|

My Worst Nightmare (affectionate)

Since they first knew each other, Jack has been ADAMANT, whole heartedly believes, that there's an audible difference between Killian laughing WITH him vs. AT him. He says he can hear the subtle difference but everyone else thinks he's crazy.

Conversations involving catching up about all the things that have happened in the past 910 yrs.

K: So yeah, I did get my leg caught in a bear trap once and that was pretty wild.

J: YOU DID WHAT??

-----------------------

J: Did I ever tell you that I was kidnapped by pirates once?

K: Did I ever tell you that I was a pirate once

J: Doesn't surprise me. You do look like you contracted scurvy a while ago and still hasn't been able to get rid of it.

You bet your sweet ASS that Jack takes full advantage of that stupid fucking scarf he always wears. That shits ALWAYS getting yanked.

There will be the very occasional snow on Halloween. Jack uses this as a very blatant lie of an excuse to visit Kills on the job during the holiday.

They both STILL hold a grudge on Cupid. Stupidly in love once again and they still hate his guts. They tried complaining about it to him once and Cupid goes:

"Oh, so what I'm hearing is that you wanna break up YET AGAIN!? You wanna fall out of love twice, fuckers? Because I can make that happen! I can take all that away again right now. Stop running ya mouths."

The both of them never brought it up again after that.

👏Making👏up👏with👏the👏Mother's👏in👏Law👏

Mostly Jack is the one with the uphill climb on that front. Duna hates his GUTS and there is such a minute microscopic chance of her coming around to him again. And the image of Jack absolutely floundering about trying to win over this woman is amazing.

At some point Killian goes: "Dude, it's not gonna work. I expected this and it's fine that she doesn't like you."

And Jack goes: "It is NOT fine. I WILL win her over somehow and she WILL like me!"

Spoiler alert: She doesn't.

WINTER STREETS/FORESTS AT NIGHT!!!

It's their whole vibe and they love hanging out in those areas in the dead of night in the middle of winter. Because ugh it's freezing cold, it's scary dark, there is no one around and it's completely uninhabitable and miserable. But not to them!! They are probably the only ones who will find such a scenario thoroughly enjoyable and romantic even.

Killian, along with not being able to slow dance, also can't ice skate! He's never learned, so Jack abuses this 100% and has frozen many lakes to force him out on. It's the same thing as the dancing where it's one of the rare instances that he's more dependent on him. Ego boost of the century.

PLUS, MORE BED SHARING DIATRIBES! Because it's my new favorite thing

They don't sleep in the same bed often. Jack only needs to sleep every couple days and Kills every week, so it's only occasionally that this happens at all.

There is no one designated big/little spoon. They switch on almost a daily basis. They're both switches. It's just a matter of who initiates first that day.

BUT! Killian does sleep with his eyes open. So as long as Jack is not directly facing him as he's trying to sleep, it's all good.

It's a nonnegotiable requirement that Kills sleeps with the heated blanket. If he doesn't, he will get hypothermia in the night and will complain about it for the entire rest of the following day.

The night always starts of very normal, but as they sleep, they just get more and more tangled up. And it's WORSE because Killian's joints can bend in impossible ways, so they wake up the next morning absolutely MANGELED and in a mess of limbs.

[aiyumiyeou]

yumi & harumi 🪷🕷 snippet (season 15, crystallized) under the cut!

their dynamic is actually so toxic and fun it hurts almost... they're not supposed to be romantic but they do emit more yuri vibes than they should

(also 🪷🍀 endgame is. such a long road. from s1~s4 lloyd likes yumi first (in a puppy crush way), then s5~s15 yumi likes lloyd back (but in a kind of tsun/tease way) but lloyd doesn't realize it & yumi thinks its for the better bc he doesn't want to be a weakness to lloyd) (they become boyfriends after crystallized... yay!!!)

Harumi warily watched the fox-eared teen slumped against the pillar he was chained to.

The vengestone glinted an eerie hue of orchid against the bloodied hanfu of the pink-haired boy and the pillar of crystal pulsed as if it had a heartbeat. Wounds littered Yumi's body, gnashes and cuts visible through the sheer and delicate fabric.

"You're pathetic," Harumi scoffed.

She was met with a razor sharp glare from Yumi who lifted his head up and woke his body from its lethargic state. Despite the thick disdain in his eyes, Harumi could see fear and timidity.

"What do you want, Harumi." Yumi's tail bristled with agitation, but his voice was slightly raspy and unthreatening. His pink hair was dulled and unkempt, haloing his face messily in a way Harumi could describe as beautiful.

She was supposed to feel happy for causing considerable damage to Yumi and his life.

But she felt a weight of dissatisfied.

"It's my duty to check up on you." She curtly answered. Yumi huffed and turned his head away from her greedy eyes, which sunk its teeth on the sight of the Yāojing ninja so defeated.

"I'd rather you just kill me," One of Yumi's soft ears flickered in annoyance. "It's impossible trying to use only my blood, sweat, and tears to empower the Overlord's entire army."

Ever since he and Lloyd were found infiltrating the Crystal Council's meeting, Harumi had the pleasure of seperating and tomenting the two. Yumi was chained and skirmished almost every quarter of the day. His initial cries were loud enough to help Harumi convince Lloyd that the pink ninja was no longer with them.

In reality, Yumi was being farmed for his very essence. His blood was absorbed into the crystals that suffocated him and his screams fell on empty ears as the council each had their turn in honing their new powers.

"Don't be silly. Even if you could die, your own soul won't let you," Harumi crossed her arms, slowly inching towards the chained-up boy. "Isn't it so lovely? Being unable to die?"

She found herself at the edge of Yumi's tangled legs. The replacement of his gi to a simple hanfu reduced his image into a helpless boy. Yumi's bruised ankles peeked out from under the splattered cotton, but the sheerness led Harumi's eyes futher up his calves to right above his knees.

The white-haired girl bent down to Yumi's eye level and his gaze refused to meet hers.

"Lucky you. People who don't deserve to die still do." Harumi seethed through her tongue. Yumi found strength to roll his eyes and Harumi watched his glinting eyes, a soft purple casted from the shine of the crystals bleeded into his soft apricot and rosy pink irises.

She watched his throat flex and the scar that she left him. Yumi swallowed harshly and dryly opened his mouth.

"Like it's my fault I can't die," Yumi's tail now twitched in annoyance. "I'm no different from those people."

Harumi growled before standing her full length and slamming her foot onto one of Yumi's exposed ankles. He responded with a hiss of pain and it quickly melted into a warning growl bubbling in his throat.

"You don't deserve anything!" Harumi gritted her teeth. "You're nothing like an innocent person. You only think of yourself, you are the reason why so many people have died. Do you truly think you're innocent, Yuyu?"

The nickname she spat with venom caused Yumi to flinch harded, but his eyes became furious. Harumi was taken aback and lifted some weight from the pink-haired boy's ankle with means to create distance.

"I only think of myself." Yumi repeated. "I'm the one who thinks of myself?"

Yumi suddenly pulled himself up and the sudden energy and struggle against chains startled Harumi backwards even further. Another low growl emerges from his throat until Yumi snapped.

"You have no idea what it's like to be selfless! You have no heart! I don't understand what Lloyd even saw in you."

Harumi's eyes settled coldly on the frenzied Yāojing ninja.

"If you're not thinking about yourself, you're thinking about Lloyd," Harumi pursed her lips to mock pity at Yumi. "But even then, you treat him selfishly. You and I both know he likes you, yet you reject his love. You're heartless for leading him on."

That's when Yumi shattered all his self-resolve.

"I reject him for the good of his heart! I can't let him love me," Yumi's voice raised tremendously. With quivering breaths and teary, wild eyes, this image of Yumi burned itself into Harumi's mind.

"If I tell him I love him he'll do everything in his power to love me back. I can't risk that! I can't risk all of his life being poured into mine!" Yumi's cries became more unstable as he continued to try to struggle free from his imprisonment. "If he knew what I want, he would sacrifice it all." His voice trembled from screaming.

Harumi was silent. She watched Yumi's eyebrows knit and the tears threatened to spill from his exhausted eyes.

"He's sacrificed so much to love everyone, especially you," The pink-haired ninja collapsed onto his knees without warning. "I want that."

"I wanted to be loved unrelentlessly like how Lloyd loved you," Yumi lowered his gaze from Harumi, voice cracking into a high whimper. "I want to be selfish. I want to be as selfish you."

Harumi found herself back at Yumi's feet again but this time crouched down in front of him. Her limbs felt cold as she brushed her knee against Yumi's and he flinched away, shaking like a lost animal.

"You only think of yourself," Yumi cried into the chains wrapping him against the clean ridges of the crystal stabilizing him. Without another thought, Harumi's hands reached out to hold the crying teen's face.

"You're so selfish and even your stupid revenge is centered around you," The hiccups and stutters errupted against Harumi's calloused hands and she leaned forward to hold Yumi's head against the crook of her shoulder. "You have no idea how hard it to care about others."

Yumi continued to cry his vents into Harumi's quickly collapsing chest. She felt a dread she hasn't experienced in years.

With every insult the pink-haired ninja threw at her carelessly, the harder Harumi found it to breathe. It was hard to tell how long she had sat there even after the tears stopped wetting her skin.

Harumi was alone with her thoughts and the occasional flick of a soft and wispy fox ear brushing against her cheek.

[darlincollins]

the wave returns to the ocean: chapter 1 (two lifetimes ago)

prologue

note: we are proceeding on energy alone here and not one scrap of historical accuracy both for i-didn't-do-research purposes and also logistical-leaving-darlin-as-not-gender-specific purposes!

tag list: @dollscircus @angel-shaw @taelonsamada @friendlyfaded @darlin-collins @romeo-the-homeo

----

Sam ducks into the covered tent just as the fire elemental on stage is wrapping up her show to clamorous applause, and pushes his way as close to the front as he can manage given his lateness. He doesn't mind missing these earlier acts; really, there's only one he's come to see. The heat from the spectacular images the performer has conjured up in flames lingers a few long moments after she's dissolved their forms and taken her bows, causing a number of audience members to produce either fans or small breezes, depending on their aptitudes, as they wait for the next act to begin.

The lights, aided by magic, swivel up to the impossibly high ceiling of the tent as tense music begins to swell. Audience members murmur amongst themselves, squinting in confusion at the apparently unoccupied space tangled with ropes, bars, hoops, and silk strands dangling downward, and Sam settles in with a smile. They'll know the start of the show when they see it; subtlety has never been Darlin's strong suit.

A few frightened gasps break out as people begin to catch sight of the wolf balanced on a narrow plank way up at the top of the tent. Those turn into screams as the wolf leaps from the beam, seemingly suspended in the air for several long moments as they fall before canine turns human milliseconds before they twist and grab onto a thin bar hanging from ropes connected to the metal frame of the tent.

They swing a few times to gain momentum, and then flip from that bar to one of the dangling hoops, effortlessly twisting themself through and around it to resounding cheers.

Darlin' keeps the audience on the edges of their seats for the rest of the routine, spinning and tossing themself through the air before finishing the routine with a dead drop that gets even Sam's heart racing despite knowing that their control is perfect; indeed, a moment before they hit the ground they break their own fall and slowly bring themself to the floor, offering the crowd a flippant wave instead of a bow before disappearing behind the stage.

Sam ducks out before the next performance begins, heading around the magically enhanced tent to what's serving as the backstage and living area- little more than heaped boxes that once contained fireworks or cannons or the trapeze sets and a number of wagons piled with more boxes, crowded among the unevenly spaced, smaller tents. The horses which cart the deconstructed circus from show to show are unhitched and grazing; Sam weaves between them to where his darlin' is sitting on the ground. Of course in the brief minutes it took him to join them, they have already earned the eternal devotion of a stray cat, purring as it rubs against their leg and arches its body into their hand to be pet.

"I've gotta admit, when you told me you were joinin' this rig I had my doubts, but that was damn impressive," he calls, and the cat startles, fleeing under the protective cover of a nearby wagon.

They turn to look up at him as he approaches, shoot him a flash of that rare, devastating smile, and Sam falls in love all over again. It's no longer surprising or offputting, as it was the first few times, and now he's only glad for the opportunity. "Sure beats that shifter fighting ring, huh? I guess you won't have so many chances to come keep all my limbs attached anymore."

His heart clenches. Are they saying goodbye? This can't be it already. "I guess not."

"Maybe-" Darlin' shifts nervously back and forth, avoiding his eyes. "I mean, it is still pretty dangerous, though, right? Wouldn't want to break something and not even know about it until too late."

"This comin' from the same shifter who told me you were 'basically alright to keep fighting' after I had to replenish about half your blood volume?" Hope stirs in his chest again. If they still want to see him...

"Yeah, well..." they glance at him briefly, looking almost sheepish. "I guess you're rubbing off on me, mother hen. But anyway- if you wanted, I mean- maybe you could come back sometimes. For medical... check ups. And I could tell you about all the unsafe things I've been doing that make your face get all scrunched up, and you could lecture me about wise decision-making and bones and stuff?"

"Hmm..." Sam pretends to consider, unable to resist the urge to tease a little. People have been less disappointing and hurtful to his love in this life, so far, and he relishes the amused confusion he can draw from them in a lifetime where they don't fear the uncertainty so much. "I think I've got a better idea."

"What's that?"

"You let me take you to dinner, and that way we can skip the lecture about regular meals. Save more time for your horrifying stories about jumpin' off buildings and fighting loose bears."

Darlin' perks up noticeably, and he fights back a grin. "Really? You would- I mean, you want to?"

"Course I do, darlin'. You're the most amazing, stress-inducing, beautiful person I've ever met. I'll always want more time with you."

They have no idea just how much he means it.

[walks-the-ages]

Okay so ANYWAYS.

Quantum Leap.

My "this was meant to be a funny shit post but now I'm taking it super seriously" prompt has officially been incorporated into my little daydream Quantum Leap AU+Rewrite+Post Canon Universe.

it's sometime after my rewrite of the whole mess that is Last Dance Before An Execution (through) Shock Theater. (LDBAE-ST)

4x01 just straight up goes off the rails because none of that made sense except for the parts I'm keeping for Future Sam to deal with.

Anyways. During the New Events that happen to replace The Leap Back, Sam starts having very strange dreams and hearing [more] voices-- and the calls not coming from inside the house either, he already checked with the others!

Nope. Instead, he suddenly has spirits communicating with him in his dreams, showing up every night throughout the Leap, trying to ask him something but he can never quite make out what they're saying.

His lack of proof (or actual, meaningful communication) leaves Al skeptical of his claims and tells him they just need to get more sleep in this Leap while they can still can.

The Leap continues in whatever plot I decide at the eventual-maybe time of writing, and it's not until the very end of the Leap, when Sam has been knocked unconscious by the antagonist, that he's able to fully understand the spirits who are reaching out to him.

Al in the outside world is frantically trying to wake Sam up so he can go like, rescue a man who's been cartoonishly tied to some train tracks or something, idk.

Anyways, Sam wakes up, saves the guy, fixes what went wrong, and Leaps.

Weeks go by, as they always do before Ziggy can locate Sam's temporal signature again.

But weeks turn into months.

And suddenly, it's New Years Eve at Project Quantum Leap, only no one feels like celebrating, because Sam is still missing in between Leaps. This is the longest he's ever been "in between" and everyone is starting to get worried.

Then, right as the clock strikes midnight, Ziggy sends out an alert--

She's found Dr. Sam Beckett.

Except his brain wave and vital signs are off the charts, and something is messing with her system and "Admiral, we need you in the Imaging Chamber NOW! We don't know what's happening to Sam but you're the only one who can tell us what's wrong!."

Al, of course, is already sprinting down the corridors to the Imaging Chamber, more than halfway there.

Al bursts into the Imaging Chamber and the new Leap materializes around him as the Chamber powers up and sprawled on a carpeted floor of a bedroom is a young woman, blankets tangled around her legs, pajama suit rumpled, and sobbing.

After the traumatic shit show that was LDBAE-ST, Al has had to take multiple sessions with Dr. Verbena Beeks himself to deal with the fallout of what *Sam* has gone through, (not to mention dealing with the shell shock from the war), so Al is fairly confident he'll be able to help guide his friend through whatever kind of panic or anxiety attack they're having and help them calm down , and usually seeing that Al is there at all is some kind of comfort so he circles around and starts reassuring them he's here --

Only to not get the reaction he was expecting.

"Syl? Sylvi? Veon! Syl vee, vee, veon!" The woman on the floor exclaims and tries to hug him, then looks embarrassed when that fails to work "Vee, sylvi, veon, Syl. Vee Sylve, onn vee Sylvi."

Al just stares, because clearly, this is Sam. But for the life of him, Al can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Sam tilts their head in confusion at Al's flabbergasted look, "Sylveon?" They finally enquire.

.

.

[aka Sam Leaps into Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Red Rescue Team / Rescue Team DX and lives out not only the entire main storyline but also all of the post game content until he finally passed of old age with his Partner at his side and only then did he Leap back into canon

but he spent more than a human lifetime there and doesn't realize he's speaking Pokespeak lolol.

Don't worry! It's fine! He still knows English he just has to jog his memory of how to speak it.

Oh, and how to walk on two legs again lol.

Also becoming a Pokemon is what unlocks his ability to Leap into earth animals later.

Anyways, Sam is an Eevee in Rescue Team Verse and so is his Partner!

Sam eventually evolves into Sylveon (aka the trans pride Eeveelution)

and his Partner, Eevee, because of Sam's presence in that world, evolves into [REDACTED].